Available today at Side A Vinyl
There’s something magical about stumbling upon an album simply because the cover draws you in. The House on the Hill by Audience is one of those records. The LP cover alone—moody, black-and-white, framed with a sense of poetic drama—feels like the start of a journey. And sometimes, that’s all it takes to discover a new favorite artist: an image that quietly says, "Trust me, what’s inside is worth it."
Released in 1971 and produced by Gus Dudgeon (of Elton John fame), The House on the Hill is the third studio album by British art-rock band Audience. It’s a beautifully odd record—melodic, theatrical, and at times unsettling. Songs like “Jackdaw” and “You’re Not Smiling” offer an intricate mix of acoustic guitars, saxophone, and layered vocals that swing between vulnerability and intensity.
What sets this album apart is its refusal to settle into one mood. “I Had a Dream” pulls you into a cinematic, almost surreal soundscape, while “Eye to Eye” brings in a sharper, more direct tone. The sequencing matters here. This is a record meant to be played from start to finish, needle down, no skips.
If You Like...
If you’re a fan of bands that play with form and texture, The House on the Hill feels like a companion piece to early King Crimson. There’s a similar embrace of chaos and beauty, especially in the arrangements. It also shares the lyrical poetry and complexity found in Van der Graaf Generator or Procol Harum.
You might also enjoy it if you appreciate the more melancholic side of classic rock—the parts of Pink Floyd that feel deeply human, or the darker, folky textures of Genesis before their pop era. Even modern acts like Radiohead or Weyes Blood feel distantly connected, especially in how they use tone and atmosphere to carry a story.
Why It Still Matters
Part of the charm of listening to vinyl is the full-body experience. You see the artwork. You hear the pops and crackles. You sit with the music. And in a world of playlists and digital skipping, an album like The House on the Hill reminds you of the joy in staying still and listening close.
It’s not the kind of album that shouts. But it stays with you. And for anyone hunting the bins for something a little off the beaten path, this one’s a quiet revelation.